


Home isn't a Place

by elhoppers



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, please enjoy this mileven thanksgiving/christmas fluff, this is my first ever stab at fic writing and honestly i'm not over the moon but here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21926197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elhoppers/pseuds/elhoppers
Summary: Just a short drabble about Mike being totally soft for El coming home for the holidays.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Home isn't a Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FateChica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FateChica/gifts).



> Hi, I'm apparently very awkward and have absolutely no idea what to type here because this is my first ever fic (if it can be called that, I think this is more like a drabble?) and I'm not entirely sure what these notes are for, but thank you so much if you've for some reason clicked on to read this. I hope you find some joy in whatever this ended up being, and I hope you and your family have a wonderful and merry Christmas. 
> 
> This is gifted to my wonderful friend Julie aka @FateChica who is a Mileven fanfic queen and also my Secret Santa giftee! She has been an inspiration to me for the longest time and I'm thankful to call her one of my close friends. Huge shoutout to all of my BNBG ladies too, ya'll know who you are.
> 
> Please go easy on me, and without further adieu, here is some fluffy Mileven based on a headcanon I had a little while ago... sorry its on the shorter side.

**Christmastime, 1985.**

It has only been a month since he last saw her, only a month and yet he already fears he has forgotten the exact peel of her laughter, the delicate confusion on her face when she is unsure of a word, and the shade of the gentle blush that coloured her cheeks when he whispered how pretty she looked in her Thanksgiving dinner outfit.

Thanksgiving. He’d been looking forward to that day every single moment since the second those tyres crunched across the lose gravel of the Byers’ old home, taking her away from her family, from him. Thanksgiving came around way too slowly for Mike, the hours dragging into days, into weeks. October and November were tough in a new way with her gone. Their almost daily calls helped a little, but it just wasn’t the same as having her close.

Yet those days, sad as they were, were all but forgotten as Nancy had pulled up to El’s new home. For once, Mike had appreciated how sappy Nancy was when it came to Jonathan, since it meant he could hitch a ride without any blackmail required. To say he was excited to see her was an understatement, having opened the door as Nancy was still pulling up in front of their house in his eagerness to see her. He remembers faintly hearing Nancy shouting at him in the background about being reckless, but all that became irrelevant when he saw her waiting on her front porch for him.

Each crunch of the leaves beneath his feet took him closer to her as he’d ran and swept her up into his awkwardly long, yet reassuring arms. He remembers beaming, and her beaming and laughing, the relief of being reunited palpable in their embrace.

Mike loved making her happy, and sitting next to her during that Thanksgiving dinner, he’d gotten an idea…

* * *

It had taken a lot of planning, and a lot of help, but it is finally Christmas Eve, which means it is almost time for her to arrive back in Hawkins, and he’s confident that she will love it. He’s planning on taking her there as soon as she arrives, his leg bobbing with his anxious excitement as he sits on the La-Z-Boy and waits for the tell-tale sound of a car door outside. What feels like hours pass, and there it is. A door slams, footsteps fall, and a short buzz of the doorbell indicates that she is finally here. El. After nervously smoothing out his trousers and awkwardly finger combing his hair, he greets her, their reunion as wonderful and encompassing as always, making him feel like he can finally release a breathe he wasn’t even aware he was holding since he last saw her.

As they fall back into their comfortably intimate back and forth as they sit in his basement, El can tell Mike is hiding something, curiosity sparkling in her gaze as she watches him ramble about how Max and Lucas have just broken up for the ninth time because of a Christmas present he bought her which had been misconstrued (according to Lucas, anyway). After they have caught up (on the past couple of days since they last spoke) it is time to exchange gifts.

Before El can do anything else, Mike grabs her hand and is explaining how his gift isn’t something he could transport, meaning they need to go to _it_ instead. El laughs, giddy, as he’s pulling her outside, onto his bike, which is a significantly tighter squeeze than the last time they had to share a ride.

Mike wastes no time pedalling them through Hawkins, heading for the other side of town. She gets even more confused when he keeps going, past any stores, any places that could be housing this special immovable gift. They get so far, and Mike abruptly brakes, bringing them to a stop on the side of the road. He turns to her and explains away the quizzical look on her face, asking if she is ok to wear a blindfold for this last part of the journey, just like the ones she used to see him in the void, to make the surprise better.

Of course El trusts Mike and wants to help him, and once it is securely tied and she’s safely holding tight to him, they set off again, El feeling nothing but the soft warmth of Mike’s torso which she is clinging to, and the icy winter air whipping past her face. They come to a stop not far after, Mike guiding her off the bike and along a path. She thinks she finally knows where he has brought her from the cracking of branches and the calling of birds, but can’t understand why they'd be here... surely not.

He takes a deep breathe, and unties her blindfold, grasping her hand as tightly as he can to let her know he's right here with her. She gasps, tears immediately springing to her eyes because its _home_.

Mike and El stand in front of the cabin, only it is no longer the destroyed, hopeless version she left. The cabin has been restored to its shabby but wonderful glory, and El cannot fathom how. Mike hands her a card he’s been saving for this moment, after a month of solid hard work. The card reads ‘for when you come back home’. 

El can’t believe this is real, Mike proudly smiling at her reaction, his own throat growing tight with the restrained tears threatening to spill, but he needs to be strong right now for her. 

She runs in, still grasping his hand, tears now flowing freely from her eyes as she gasps with joy because its _how she remembers it all_ , everything back in its rightful place. She walks into her bedroom, tracing the drawings on the walls, and grabs Rory to take back to the Byers’ with her. 

After a short while, they settle in the make-shift living room, soaking in their shared memories of this tiny little home.

“Do you like it?” Mike says after a long period of comfortable silence has fallen between them. “I’m not so great with handiwork, so I had to get help from some people. Steve, Robin, Lucas, Dustin, Max, they all helped me do this for you. I wanted to rebuild your home, make sure you had something to come back to.”

“Mike” she says in a tone that is incredibly gentle, “I could have never imagined this place would ever look like this again, or feel like the home I left, but the past year I've learnt something really important, that home isn’t a place, it’s the people.”

Mike looks at her in awe, marvelling at how far this incredibly strong girl has come. He's never been more thankful to have saved her in the woods all those years ago, as he takes her hand, ready for whatever the future throws their way. Because she's right. He knows now he won't feel at rest unless she is by his side; she is his home and he is hers.

**Author's Note:**

> You made it! Sorry if that wasn't so great, I honestly haven't written fiction in over ten years. 
> 
> More than a little rusty but anyway! Have a wonderful Christmas.


End file.
